Times at Winterfell
by starrysky7
Summary: Winterfell was a grand keep, far more so than Widow's Watch, but it was as grim and grey as the rest of the North.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its rightful owners**

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Winterfell was a grand keep, far more so than Widow's Watch, but it was as grim and grey as the rest of the North. Especially compared to the East, where even the poorest parts at least had some colour to them. Still, the land was green and open.

She had taken great care in how she would present herself to her liege lord, braiding her dark hair in the Northern style, with a simple white dress without the opulence of the South. Except for the necklace hanging on her throat, a black cord with a red gem. It was the only thing she owned of her mother's.

Lord Stark was a rather plain and serious man, though Roderick had told her as much, whilst his wife maintained her southern beauty and grace. It was their mother's colluding that the children had inherited, except for one of the daughters who had the dark hair and the grey eyes of the Starks.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady," Lord Stark greeted, after she curtsied to both him and his wife, "My condolences for your husband, he was a good man."

"Thank you, my lord." She replied, "I am glad I could finally meet you, Roderick did speak so highly of you." She said, before extending out her hand, "These are Roderick's sons, Willam and Rickard."

"My lord." Willam bowed, his brother following him

"This is my wife, Catelyn," Lord Stark said, "And out children, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon."

 _The family is as large as my own_ , she thought, _though these siblings had all managed to be raised alongside each other_.

Robb was a handsome young lord, and Sansa a growing beauty, especially when compared to her younger sister, who looked decidedly more boyish, though she was still too young to tell.

The boy they tried to hide at the back, who looked so like her liege lord, must have been his bastard son. Jon Snow was his name, at least that's what she had been told. It was an exceedingly common name in Westeros she had found, that decidedly not common in the East. _My brother's name_ , she thought, _it was why we once thought our father to be a Westerosi_. Though, whatever their father was they had never learned, for their mother would not speak of the man, and any mention of him sent her into hysterics.

Perhaps this bastard boy would understand her strife, as no one could seem to give her an answer as to who his mother was. Maybe he did not know himself. A cruel fate for a child, she would know. _But perhaps Lord Stark weeps for his lost love as my mother does_.

"You are welcome to share on the hospitality of our home," Lady Stark said, "For as long as you stay."

"Many thanks."

It had not been her own idea to visit Winterfell, but that of Lord Manderly, who had thought it wise for her to meet her liege lord if she was to rule for her step-son. And it was a wise thought indeed, though she was sure Manderly had his own motivations. What these were she had yet to uncover, for he did not stand to gain anything for his own family.

Especially not if he expected her to charm the lord's son, since she was the widow of a lesser lord than Manderly. Though, perhaps he hoped she would favour him if she were to become the Lady of Winterfell.

 _Lady Layla Stark_ , she thought, _it has a certain ring to it_. But it was a foolish dream of her youth. There was no prestige in her hand in marriage, there never had been. And she could not keep her promise to Roderick if she run off with another lord.

 _I will keep this promise_ , she told herself, _I will not break my word_.

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 **This is a continuation of my series of one-shots, and will itself by a collection of one-shots of Layla's time at Winterfell**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its rightful owners**

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The boys were in the yard, using play swords to hack at one another while Ser Roderick Cassel instructed them. Both were growing more skilled with each lesson, but Rickard had more raw talent than his older brother. A fact not lost on the young lord.

Willam was a quiet boy of twelve, solemn and surly but he saw more than most. He had not taken to her the way that Rickard had, for he had some memory of his mother, and was made uncomfortable with idea of being parented by someone so apparently close to his age. But with his father's death, his step-mother and uncle were the only parents he had.

She had attempted to ease him into his lordship as much as possible, so as not to burden him with too many responsibilities too fast. He was so young, after all. And had spent almost every day since his father's death in the training yard. She missed the boy who had spent his days reading.

"They're quite good." A voice spoke, and she turned to see the young Stark heir beside her

"They'll be great warriors one day." She agreed, "Though I hope that day does not come soon."

"Why not?"

"Because when they are young it's easier to protect them, as I swore to their father that I would." She explained, "But when they're older, they'll try to gain glory of their own, and it is so often that quests of glory only lead to death."

"I am sure you will counsel them with wisdom." Robb said, "I am sorry about your husband, it can't be good to be widowed so young."

"He was dying when we wed. It was why we wed, to be truthful." Layla admitted, "We were friends, and he wanted someone to look after his sons. They liked me well enough. Your father wasn't lying when he said Roderick was a good man, but we were not truly married."

"You mean, you are a maiden?" Robb asked, with enough decency to blush

She was surely no such thing, but he did not need to know that. It was an expectation of ladies to be maidens before they wed, and he would surely judge if he knew that were not the case. It had been her first love who she had given her maidenhead to, and though they loved each other for years, it was the threat of separation that brought them together when she ten-and-five. But years had passed, and she had given herself to others since.

"That is hardly an appropriate question for a lady, my lord." She teased, causing his blush to darken, "And I do not think I will dignify it with an answer."

"Apologies, my lady." He said, earnestly, "I should not have said such a thing."

"Oh, I was only jesting." She said, linking her arm through his, pulling him into a walk, "It is far more difficult than that to offend me."

"Than I hope I will never achieve such a feat."

And as she looked at his kind face, she thought that perhaps Lord Manderly's judgement had not been faulty. He did seem like such a good man. _So were Quentyn and Daemon_ , she reminded herself, _and you left them all the same_.

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 **Thank you Jmw88 for the review, I do hope to write more for this, but if you are enjoying this then go to my profile to find the other one-shots and stories featuring this character**


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